Thursday, November 28, 2013

Happy Birthday, Jonatan!

 
My youngest child is 6 today. He has been anticipating this day for weeks and months, counting the days lately...
Here's a few pictures which show how he has changed these years... He is the youngest of four, our baby, who used to be literally attached to me most of the time, who now is a fine school boy, busy with both learning and playing. He is a caring, kind and funny boy, and he gives the most wonderful hugs. 
Today he woke up to all of us singing to him, and there were a few gifts to open. This afternoon we'll have a birthday snack at home with some more gifts, and tomorrow he'll be celebrating with a bunch of his classmates.
Happy Birthday, Jonatan!
Yngstemann er 6 i dag. Han har ventet på denne dagen i ukesvis og månedsvis, telt dager i det siste...
Her er noen bilder som viser hvor mye han har forandret seg disse årene... Han er yngst av fire, babyen vår, som var (bokstavelig talt) knyttet til (på) meg mesteparten av tiden og er nå en flott skolegutt, travelt opptatt med å lære og leke. Han er omsorgsfull, snill og morsom, og han gir verdens beste klemmer.
I dag våknet han opp til bursdagssang fra oss alle, og det var pakkeåpning på senga. Det blir et lite bursdagsselskap med familien i ettermiddag, hvor det dukker opp noen flere pakker, og i morgen skal han feire dagen sin sammen med en haug med skolekamerater.
Gratulerer med dagen, Jontatan!

 
 
 
 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 







 
 



 



Monday, November 25, 2013

Slekt skal følge slekters gang / Generations will follow...



I dag tenker jeg på en kjent og kjær  julesang, og da nærmere bestemt første del av andre vers:

Tider skal komme,
tider skal henrulle,
slekt skal følge slekters gang.

Min far døde for 7 år siden, og samtidig som jeg daglig kjenner på savnet og sorgen, innser jeg også litt etter litt at han er her fortsatt, på en måte, i det han har gitt meg, i det han har lært meg, og i det jeg er på grunn av ham.

Det samme gjelder for barna mine, til og med minstemann, som ble født et drøyt år etter at far døde. Med jevne mellomrom ser jeg noe av faren min i det de sier eller gjør, og det får meg til å smile.

Tider skal komme

Etter hvert som vi selv kommer lenger i livet, vil vi oppleve å miste stadig flere av de som var viktige for oss, de som holdt hånden vår, og vi må gå videre uten dem.

Livet må gå videre. Vandringen fortsetter

Tider skal henrulle.

Og, samtidig som vi bærer savnet etter dem, disse vi så inderlig skulle ønske fortsatt var her, må vi rette blikket mot dem vi har rundt oss akkurat nå.

Slekt skal følge slekters gang. 

Jeg må fokusere på dem som kommer etter meg, dem jeg har fått ansvaret for å følge på veien, så langt jeg kan....

Og han er her hver dag...






Today I think about the words of a beautiful Norwegian psalm, and more specifically, the first lines of the second verse:

"Times will come,
times will roll away,
generations will follow generations."

My dad died 7 years ago today, and even though I every day feel the loss and the grief, I realise, little by little, that he is still here, in a way, in all that he has given me, in all that he taught me, in all that I am because of him.

The same goes for my children, and that includes my youngest, who was born a year after my dad died. Often I see some of my dad in the things they say or do, and this makes me smile.

"Times will come"

As we advance in life, we will experience the loss of more and more of those who are important to us, those who held our hand, and we have to continue without them.

Life has to go on. The walk continues.

"Times will roll away."

And, while carrying the loss of all those we fervently wish were here, we have to turn to the people who are around us just now.

"Generations will follow generations."

I have to focus on those who come after me, those I have been given the task of walking next to, for as far as I can go...

And he is here every day. :-)

Cannes - Côte d'Azur II

Cannes - by night.








Sunday, November 24, 2013

Cannes - Côte d'Azur I


A few pictures from this summer, when we enjoyed the blue Mediterranean Sea and the sun. Right now, in freezing November Norway, this seems very far away, but looking at the photographs bring warm memories! 












Thursday, November 7, 2013

The Messenger. A story.



She had been walking forever. It was a steep and difficult hike, up a high mountain, and there were pointy rocks and hardly any rest at all. She wanted to stop. Turn around. Quit. She was so tired, more than ever before. Her feet hurt, and she didn't really see any point in continuing. Besides, it was freezing, and she wasn't dressed warmly enough for this hike. The cold seeped into her bones, and she feared for her life.

She turned around, tried to make sense of the landscape around her, deciding which way to go, but the fog was so heavy that it had become impossible to see the path. To make matters worse, night was falling quickly, as it does in the mountains, and thick darkness soon closed around her like a deathly glove. 

Then, a sudden light. What was that? She stared and blinked, and out of the darkness, somebody emerged. Somebody she didn't expect to be there. This somebody held a lantern in front of her and told her that she was in fact very close to a warm shelter where she could spend the night, get something to eat, and even be offered new clothes for the hike next day. She just had to walk a little longer, but she would be there.

-Are you a guide? she asked. 

-Oh no, was the answer. -I'm just the messenger. The guide has been there all along. Didn't you know?

The messenger lifted the lantern a little bit higher, and now she could see a glimpse of him, the guide who was, just as she was told, walking the path just ahead of her. 

-He has just walked ahead, the messenger continued, -to make sure the wood fire is burning when you arrive.

She was so happy she couldn't stop crying, because she knew she was safe now, even though the hike wasn't over yet...



Everybody is struggling with something. Some of us more than others. Life can be hard, and sometimes you just don't want to continue. Then, there are probably somebody who can help you. Somebody you didn't necessarily expect to be there. Even if you think there isn't any, a person may suddenly appear, and he or she will let you know you'll make it, even if you didn't think so. Let you know that there is hope. That somebody is walking with you.

I hope you find this, your living angel. There are maybe even two of them...

Messengers, helpers, friends...





Saturday, November 2, 2013

Beyond that Gate...


When I took this picture, my mother-in-law was very ill, but I didn't know yet... Wednesday night, only two days later, she passed away.
She was a creative, loving and kind woman, with a warm laughter and a scary sneeze. (My baby would start to cry every time she sneezed...)
She had a long life, and she suffered from many conditions for years, but the end came suddenly.
Tuesday we'll say goodbye,
but she has already walked through the gate...
We don't know much about all this, do we?
Other than that we all will follow her,
some day...

Rest in peace, Johanna. 


Da jeg tok dette bildet, var svigermoren min blitt veldig syk, men jeg visste det ikke ennå... Onsdag kveld, bare to dager senere, døde hun.
Hun var en kreativ, kjærlig og snill kvinne, med en varm latter og et skremmende nys. (Babyen min begynte å gråte når hun nøs)
Livet hennes ble langt, og hun hadde slitt med mange plager i årevis, men slutten kom brått.
Tirsdag skal vi ta farvel,
men hun har allerede gått gjennom porten...
Vi vet ikke mye om alt dette, gjør vi?
Annet enn at vi alle skal følge etter henne,
en dag...
Hvil i fred, Johanna.